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Friday, October 29, 2010

Remember me was a better movie for Robert Pattison than the past 3 Twilight sagas.

I got to appreciate his talent (yep, he does have talent), looks and that latent broodiness. Maybe something else that helped was a flesh and blood co star (Emile De Ravin) than Vampire-wannabe Kirsten Stewart. And he definitely made up for all his 400yrs abstinence in Twilight in this movie. So for all ye who want to know how sexy Robert can really be, go watch.

Remember me is a story about the strength of family and living your life fully for each day.

Set in New York, 2001, Robert plays Tyler, a grieving young man who is ‘angry with the world’ following a family tragedy - his brother’s suicide which has destroyed his family. There is the businessman father (Pierce Brosnan) who now buries himself in his business empire ignoring the children who need him. There is sweet Caroline(Ruby Jerins), the youngest child whom Tyler becomes very protective of in the light of an absentee father. Disturbed and misunderstood, Tyler meets Ally. Ally had had her share of tragedy too, but her uncrushable spirit was exactly what Tyler needed to heal and inspire him. They fall in love. But soon, hidden secrets are revealed and the circumstances that brought them together threaten to tear them apart.

Ginger scores it 6.4/10

I would probably rate it higher if I see it again. You see, I watched it on the plane. And the audio quality was soo bad; don’t know why. But I was captivated enough to keep watching till the end because of the stellar acting from all four main characters – Robert, Emile, Brosnan and Ruby. Their characters had depth and breadth and were quite believable.

The twist at the end (of course there’s a twist in the tale!) was unexpected and a bit awkward and quite quite controversial. I think it added to the plot's uniqueness.

That’s what life is all about after all. You are ever only sure of the moment you are in.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

So I went to a meeting of Nigerian Union of students in Durham. A sort of 'lets get acquainted' stuff.

Why did I go? I’m normally not interested in such stuff. Guess I thought it would be an opportunity to make friends and/or just to hear nasal twangs like mine.

Was it worth going to? Yeah it was. The Naija jocularity was there, the wisecracks, the pidgin. I was giggling before I knew it.

Made some new friends. But some of the gals had attitudes that stunk a mile off and I wondered why? I say a friendly hello and I get the lookover and a languid flick of the hands. Hell no, ill trained child! Learn to smile and look like you mean it. That’s what people in polite society do. Its not a sorority gathering.

I even got to run for Treasurer for the group. And lost :D It was a last 2-minute decision thing to run. Thought it might look good on a resume. The best candidate won and I’m all relieved. phew! what was I thinking??

So there was this guy. Man. Older man in the group. We generally acknowledged he was the oldest (even gave him the honorary title of advisor) though as he came to prove not necessarily the wisest.

After the meeting disbanded, people strolled around, making friends, exchanging numbers. So I was with this group when Egbon (Big Brother) strolled over and we reintroduced ourselves. We discovered we finished from same University and coincidentally even same faculty. Then he asks me what course I was studying and I tell him Medical Anthropology and he says “Oh, But you should have applied for Public Health. That would have been a better choice”.

‘Heck No! I didn’t hear you say that. Excuse me? I think I knew ALL about the Masters in Public Health before I made my choice’.

What gives? I made my school searches, wrote my application, wrote my personal statement, worked my butt off to save for school and you dare under 2 minutes of acquaintance to devalue or dismiss my choice just because it’s not an MBA or MPH, the only degrees you can easily rattle off?

Mscheeew!

Next please…

My college (equivalent of Hall of residence in Nigeria) had a formal dinner for the Seniors. *wink wink* the postgraduates and Ph.D students. I was quite excited about it. Invited a friend of mine Danny from another College. It's veerrrry formal so you get to wear the college gown (graduation kinda gown) over your Pretties. ewww. That just spoilt the effects.

I didnt leave as happily as I came though.

(rant here) It is soooo damn hard fitting in with this bunch here!! I am almost throwing in my towel at trying to make friends. you know..the warm fuzzy kind. the kind you go to with all the minute gossip. the kind you feel free to hug cause you re cold or just want to feel another warm human.

Danny felt so bad for me. He's lucky he stays in a college thats purely for postgraduates. so its a potpourri of Nationalities. I stay at a mini Buckingham palace.

Heaven, I need a hug right now!

p.s. This hopefully will be my one and only pity party personal post. I'm gonna remain upbeat for the rest of 2010 or die trying!!

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

In class yesterday, we were talking about the how things have changed (yeah I'm one of those 'In my days' people) especially in Child care. Now you hear about 'the great benefits of playing classical music to children', we hear of the playpen being too confining (what will they make of Sean Connery in his cupboard cot??) and now they are talking of natural play for kids.

The more things change the more they remain the same.

So this is a tribute to all ye born between 1930-1980. And maybe some after that. We are awesome. Our lives are living proofs!!

Someone sent this to me. I'm sharing!!

Our mothers took aspirin, ate sweet potatoes and yam, geisha from a can and didn't get tested for diabetes.

Then we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-base paints.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, locks on doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets on our heads.
As toddlers, we would ride in family cars with no car seats, no booster seats, no seat belts, no air bags, no shock absorber, bald tires and sometimes no brakes.

We drank water from the mouth of public taps and not from a bottle.
We shared one bottle of coke with four friends and no one actually died from this. (We also learnt the virtue of sharing which seems to be going extinct right now)
We ate cake made with fat and bread made with white flour slathered with real butter.

We drank TreeTop made with real white sugar and we weren't overweight. WHY? Because we were always burning off that sugar, playing....that' s why! We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the evening lights came on.

We had no mobile phones. And, we were OKAY!! (Those were peaceful days!)
We did not have Play stations, Nintendo's and X-boxes. There were no video games, no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD's, no surround-sound or CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet and no chat rooms. WE ONLY HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them there! (where we could actually verify who they were unlike the case with internet friends)

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents. (These accidents actually made us strong)
We would get spankings with belts, roots, twigs, or just the raw bare hand with five fingers and no one would call child services to report abuse. (Those spankings have made us what we are today, with a healthy respect for authority).

We wore Bata shoes. We made up our games with sticks, scraps and pebbles or just the bare sand.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them, shared their lunch or their mama would prepare our lunch. Imagine that!! None of that lactose intolerance blah.

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law! And will even punish us for breaking the law (I shudder to think what my father would have said if I had even suggested that he gives me money to pay for scores, what?).

The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. What can kids today do besides push buttons. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with them all.

It's a fine decade I was born in. I wouldn't exchange it for all the Tweets in the world!

Friday, October 22, 2010

I enjoyed this movie. Sort of. Its premise was good old ‘all that glitters is not gold’ or is it ‘cut your coat according to your size?

Plot: A perfect sexy loving couple with perfect attractive kids move in next door. They renovated their house into some glorious masterpiece, the husband drives state of the art cars, the hottest gadgets off silicon valley, Madame always looks hot and beautiful and everything looks all hunky dory.

Well, let me let you into the secret : none of it is theirs. Nor are they related to each other by law or blood. Its all…..Advertising.

The Joneses advertise a lifestyle which seduces other families to want to aspire to become, copy or just desire to excel over them. And the result – Sales and profits for the company!!!

Wow/Urgh: So like I said the premise was great, the plot was mostly great but I was totally let down by the execution. The still delectable Demi Moore in particular.

Demi’s acting was so brittle, I thought she’ll break. I don’t think she liked the leading man (David Duchovny) at all.

David as the salesman with a conscience gave a great performance. But his role wasn’t the sparkly role. Great acting from Demi would have tied it all in.

Another thing is, they let us on into the super secret (that it was all advertising ) too early into the movie. Cos after the revelation it all sort of limped along. No surprises, no mysteries, just wooden acting.

Woah!! Ginger. ‘Thought you said you liked it? I don’t get that feeling from this review’.

Ha! I lied. The cheesy ending finally did me in!

It did gimme food for thought about ethics and all. Is this kind of advertising using ‘pseudo families’ ethical?

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Although I broke off my London date with Mr. J, I was still in travel mode, so I decided to go on to Birmingham. I loved the bustle of that city. My host was someone I have known for ages. No long stories.

So, dear friend just got his PG results and he and friends decided to go out and celebrate. I was invited to tag along.

First to a Sushi bar wherein I disgraced myself and asked for the most cooked looking meal on their ‘other’ menu. The nearest to uncooked I eat is salads. Thank you very much.

Kay, Kweku and Chica (the other gal) polished 2 bottles of wine btw ‘em. Henry and I sipped cokes. A lot of gist and ribbing in between.

We left around 10pm when the cleaning ladies started sweeping around our feet.

Then off for a spot of dancing..the night was still young and Rocket was the place! The music mix was British and Dance hall Oldies - 'Return of the Mack' era.

Chica (the other gal) was a great dancer. Kweku was a boneless mad dancer. Ginger acquitted herself too. *wink.

The wine drinking continued for those who could. 4 more bottles downed.

By 1 am, Kay and Chica were starring deeply drunkenly into each other’s eyes, giggling.

By 1.30am, Kay was dancing with male, female, pole....ok I exaggerate. But we were generally avoiding him.

By 1.45, He waylaid this guy who was buying bouquets of flowers and spent an inordinate amount of time drunkenly counting out pennies to pay him.

Thankfully a female was the recipient, not some random male.

By 2.15am I was aching and tired but no! my newly graduated friends were still in the mood to dance.

We finally left at 3am and piled into a Cab.

Cab driver said 5 pounds per head. No problem.

Then Kay got it into his head that the cab driver was taking the longer route to charge us more. And was verbally rude, generally threatening the poor guy.

He also got a bee in his bonnet about the cab driver getting ‘Chica’ safely home. So halfway to his house he told the guy to STOP him here! that he could walk home. That he should just go on and get his wife home asap! Cab driver knew we were not near our destination but I guess he was relieved to drop his pesky passenger.

Where did I figure? Nowhere. Cos I wasn’t so familiar with those parts and I thought Kay was right.

So we started the walk home. We got to a Tee junction and he veered right. 100m down I knew it wasn’t the right road. But didn’t know which way the right road was.

I mentioned it to my dear friend who was weaving from right to left at my side. He said, ‘This is the right way. Don’t I know the way to my house?’

After 200m, 2 wrong entries by him into courtyards that were not his (and me whispering Kay come back here, that’s not your house!) We got to the end of the road he looks around and goes ‘Damn, What is going on? This is not the way to my house!

Then we walked back 300m to the start point.

Re: I was on heels.

Desperately looking around I spied a landmark ahead, and directed him ‘home’.

We got to the house 15 mins after. From my calculations, we had been walking around for over 50mins.

Half of the time I was terrified he was going to be hit by a car cos he kept walking into the road.

I can’t count the number of times we stopped while I waited for him to attempt to light a cigarette. He wouldn’t let me help. He cups the lighter under his chin, with the ciga butt facing his nose. No connect. He was frustrated. I was frustrated watching him.

Then he was rambling all sorts of gibberish.

I regret not taping a video of that walk. I would have made money blackmailing his a$$.

As we got into the house, I lured him into his room, got him into bed and gently locked the door behind him.

Then sat on the sofa in the sitting room and cried a bit before I headed to my room. Aftershock.

The next morning he wakes at about 11am. Saunters into the living room and asks

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

I met up with this pleasant well mannered man (Mr J) who I used to be his account officer with my bank back in the days in a local flight back in Nigeria. He was a widow back then but during our in-flight conversation I found out he had remarried. In fact I met with the pretty new wife post flight when I hitched a ride with them into the city. He had sort of tried to ask me out back then…but hey older men weren’t my stuff so we remained friends.

I also found out he was he was coming to London for a 3 week training around when I’ll be there.

We agreed to hook up somewhat.

So Mr J’s in London and we exchange calls. He gives me sagely advice about rehabilitation blah blah. Nothing unnecessarily personal. Then his training is over and he has a week to play and he asks…’Why don’t you come over to London. Let me show you the sights’.

Hmm sounded good. And I had a long weekend coming (My Friday class was cancelled) and I could fix in visits to other friends in London too, right?

I checked the train schedulesand fares were like 100 pounds and I wondered..Was a day’s trip to London worth a 100 pounds, poor student that I am?

Mr. J says ‘Don’t worry I will take care of it’. Oh excellent.

The plan was get into London by noon and leave for Birmingham by evening since it was nearer and return to Durham on Sunday.

On Thursday evening, being a very practical gal I asked, ‘So what’s the itinerary like? Where are we going?

‘Don’t worry I will surprise you’

Ok. But do remember I leave by 5pm. So don’t let us wander too far.

There’s a pause..’I’m not comfortable with that’.

Really? Why?

‘I wish I could spend more time with you’. My wires are on the alert’ but I shushed them.

Next morning. I woke up at 7.30am struggled to bath. Dress up and pack my bag. Note: It consisted mainly of my books! ha!

I was still dilly dallying and next thing I knew it was 10.10am. Feeling sort of peeved that Mr. J had not called to ask if I was aboard a train.

I called and peevishly asked for the itinerary again.

And he says , Why do you keep stressing about time. I‘ve booked us a hotel room. You are leaving Saturday morning or preferably Sunday afternoon aren’t you?.

Ehhhh No. Thanks but no thanks.

Dear Lord, save me from Naivete and thank you for peevishness.

P.S. Just found out that the term "Geezer" has different meanings in the UK and US.

In the U.K.: A guy, a bloke, a person in general. The British equivalent of the American slang word "dude".

In the U.S.: An old man, particularly one who is either cranky or eccentric. Rather derogatory term.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

I haven’t forgotten movie reviews Blog family. Serious. Got so many cool movies lined up to tell you about. And I know you trust me to tell you where to put your money right? So have you seen

The Big Lebowski? Movie is actually a cult classic...it wasn't when it was first released. Infact it actually bombed at the US box office. But over time it become a cult favorite with devotees to all things Lebowski - bowling, swearing and marijuana too...l bet..lol

The Plot: A name mix up between a bum called Dude and a millionaire, a ruined carpet which ties the room together, a kidnapped trophy wife, a ransom note, an amputated toe with green polish and a bowling team of bummers with names like Jesus and Donny .

Wow: Effin’ awesomely hilarious.

Dude(Jeff Bridges) and his bum friends with their blathering, limited vocabulary and habit of making unfinished sentences -well except Cranky Walter(John Goodman)- will make you want to physically belt some sense into them. The stellar soundtrack/the unconventional dialogue, the surreal dream sequences...sic. Its slow paced but that's understandable and crucial for

the development of the slacker lifestyle of these chaps.

Urgh: You might need some patience to watch this and ear muffs cause every sentence comes with a cuss word. And the guys are really annoying.

Best scenes: The gate-away after the ransom delivery, oh and at the funeral parlor picking up D’s urn of ashes!

They come in various guises. With different voices and stories. They are adept at ambushing innocent citizens of Lagos – while you are standing innocently by the bus stops, lonely hospital corridors, inside your office or in a public conveyance.

There you are seated in a half filled bus, contemplating the playlist on your ipod that will keep you entertained for the next 2 hrs in traffic; when a new passenger comes in and seats beside you quietly. One thirds into the trip, s/he bursts into loud Christian song and begins the long sorrowful tale.

S/he might be an immigrant from any of the neighboring countries on exile due to political problems, sent away from home by wicked relations or the well dressed American deportee. All s/he’s asking for is money to go home. 24 months after, s/he’s still telling the same story.

He might be The Ex-con who just got released that morning/afternoon/evening after his last meal of rice&maggots in the prison. This guy was so good that everybody in the bus helped him out. Till I saw him the next day with the same routine down to the dinner of maggots last night.

He might be The Old man who claims to be a Justice of peace??? Which entitles him to a free ride in a privately owned commercial transport?? I’ve encountered him a number of times. Some Bus drivers let him be. Some don’t. For the latter, he releases a volley of Biblical verses about respect for the elderly and consequent curses. I never know if to admire his temerity, vex at his abuse of his age, vex at our government who did not make provisions for our dear senior citizens or just be amused.

She might be The mother of twins. Who I meet every morning as she prepares her space for the day’s fundraising on the pedestrian bridge with her 15month old twins in tow.

She might be The fat woman who claims to be starving, blind and nursing broken legs and elbows after a ‘fatal’ accident. She does see enough to give personalised thanks to her almsgivers - thank you daughter, thank you Son.

She might be the student who made a 750km trip to Lagos to visit her Aunty only to find out that dear Aunty has moved house/Travelled out of the country/hates her and now she doesnt have the fare to take her back to school. I do always give when I hear this particular story. Being stranded is not a joke.

He might be the erudite man who studies his dictionary before his daily routine. Hear him:

“Please dear Brothers and Sisters, help me in the name of God. Begging for alms is not my will. But I have no choice because of my unique circumstances. Begging is..

Embarrassing

Humiliating

Degrading

Dehumanizing

Traumatizing

Intrusive

Insufferable

Atrocious

Depressing

It is Appalling

Hateful

Degrading

Disgraceful

Disgusting

Offensive

Reprehensible

Oppressive

Intolerable

……. You gotta admire the style he brings to the profession! I miss Lagos transports!

Monday, October 11, 2010

One day, a Chinese walked into a bar in America late one night and he saw Steven Spielberg. As he was a great fan of his movies, he rushed over to him, and asked for his autograph. Instead, Spielberg gave him a slap and said, "You Chinese people bombed our Pearl Harbor, get outta here".

The astonished Chinese man replied, "It was not the Chinese who bombed your Pearl Harbor, it was the Japanese". "Chinese, Japanese, Taiwanese, you're all the same," replied Spielberg.

In return, the Chinese gave Spielberg a slap and said, "You sank the Titanic, my forefathers were on that ship". Shocked, Spielberg replied, "It was the iceberg that sank the Ship, not me".

The Chinese replied, "Iceberg, Spielberg, Carlsberg, you're all the same".

Sunday, October 10, 2010

I’ve been sleeping too deeply nowadays and as a consequence have been dreaming too.

Last night I dreamt about a wedding. My wedding. Engineered by my family . Groom never been seen.

The gist was my family had got tired of my unmarried state, and had gone ahead to betroth me to the son of some new acquaintance (‘new’ cos if they were old acquaintances, I would have known the guy right?!).

And they fixed the wedding on the day I was coming home…you know like ‘Surprise’!!! It’s Your Wedding Party!

So there I was kicking, crying and shouting: ‘How dare you’. ‘This is unfair’. ‘Marriage is forever, you shouldn’t hitch me with someone I don’t know or care for’. ‘We are not Indians’, ‘How much are they paying you all for this?’, ‘Are you bankrupt Dad? Are you sacrificing me for some financial merger?’, ‘I will never forgive you’ blah blah blah.

2 minutes before I woke up, I remembered what I should have done the first time I heard, RUN.

There have been times when I thought marrying a stranger was romantic. Blame it on Violet Winspear, Penny Jordan, Ann Marjorie (M&B Authors). But after this dream, I won’t subscribe to that again.

I can understand match.com and old fashioned matchmaking from the family, where Mom thinks you and a certain son of the Smiths would be a good fit. Then they introduce you guys, and after one or three dates you decide you like each other and want to move on to another level. Remember the matchmaking mom in this post.

But when sight unseen, a wedding is arranged, it can be terribly medieval and sometimes even cruel. Or do you think its romantic?

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Hollywood’s bankable stars......... I am yet to understand the criterion for being 'bankable'?

Is it based on your assets – either acting, adverts, private business OR based on how well their Star quality sells movies?

And the reason for this confusion was seeing Jennifer Aniston on the list. I could relate to the others heck 2-3 popular movies come to mind for each. But Jennifer Aniston in 2010?? Lady J can’t act to save her life. Since Friends she has had a long string of sh*tty movies – horrible plots which were not saved by her un-stellar performance. Are we still hung up over her hair?

Shia LaBeouf 81m. This 24 yr old was in Transformers 1,2 and 3, Disturbia, Surf’s up, I-Robot etc or his latest Wall Street. He is good but 81m good? hmmm

Anne Hathaway 64m. The Devil wears Prada, Alice in Wonderland, Valentine’s day, The Princess diaries, Ella Enchanted. Anne has got the romantic formula. and she is pweety good too.

Daniel Radcliffe 61m. Harry Potter. Need I say more? At 21 to my 32, pls would he let me be his MILF?

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

So I got into London Heathrow last week Monday and have been to Exeter, London, Birmingham before I reached my final destination, Durham on Sunday. Chatting with a friend who’s been living in London this past 10 yrs, he says he’s never been outta London, so you see, I feel pretty amazing!

Here goes my week in 20 lessons:

There’s a reason people rush around in stations: Trains wait for no one. Especially a newbie in London. I am teaching you for free. Though it was a 55pounds lesson for me.

Tea and coffee are essential accompaniments for the godawful cold weather.

Chivalry still reigns in Britain. I heard more ‘Do you need helps’ in a week than I heard in the past 20 years.

(Ok, exaggerating).

Custards are desserts. Really? Sorry In Nigeria it is taken hot with warm milk as breakfast.

J2O (a juice drink nicely packaged to look like good stuff) is a non alcohol equivalent to wine and beer in a pub.

English pastries are over rated.

English breakfasts are not. Have always loved my bacon,l sausages and baked beans.

Bringing local condiments with you is essential for times when you miss home cooking. (I never thought I would say that being a proponent of ‘when in Rome, live like the Romans’) But I have to admit that the flavor from my pot of crayfish sprinkled rice was awesome!).

One suitcase of clothes and stuff would serve you well, dear Newbie. Instead I came with 2.5 cases. Paid the extra duty on them at the airport and had the most stressful time lugging them around. Don’t even ask me what was in them. *cringe.

Durham is pretty picturesque. Gotta buy/borrow a camera so I can fully reveal it to you.

I’ve never been a fashionista and I bet with this cold weather, I shall deteriorate to wearing solely Cardigans, jeans and leg warmers!!

I miss Sunlight. The real thing. Not this watered down version.

Coins are essential modes of money transactions. And they weigh a ton!

No, they sky won’t fall if you miss Fresher’s week and induction parties in school.

Ice cream everywhere but my throat is too sore from the cold to lick any. Is this punishment for some crime I committed in my childhood??

White men can't dance. Well, to Afro beats especially. I watched this lovely man murder King Sunny Ade’s ‘Afrojuju at this Independence party I went to in Birmingham. Oh, an aside: slim girls can’t dance Afrojuju too. There I was wriggling my whole body and backbits, till this woman with a huge bum comes along. There was no overt movement but boy! Was she rocking that beat!

Why ever didn’t I apply to UCLA, Berkeley’s? They offered the same course and best: It’s a Sunshine state!!

Monday, October 4, 2010

Hi Blog family. Did you miss me? Just one teeny weenybit? I hope so. Cos I missed you all very much.

I finally had a breather out of my crazy itinerary to put up a post.

September-end marked a sort of threshold for me and JG

- JG is moving to a new job by mid October

He is also moving to another apartment in a very different part of Lagos – but a really cool estate with tennis courts and swimming pool. *I’m so green especially cause I won’t be around to live it up with him!

- I am moving to a new country, starting school AGAIN for my Masters degree.

We didn’t even get to have a decent goodbye period (you know last dinner, talk talk, the works) cause soon after I got my Visa I was on the road. Running round the country to say goodbye to my family.

Mom, Dad and Brianin Aba

Deb in Abuja

Sylvia in Ibadan

Meg and Clem in Enugu

And back to JG in Lagos.

I’m gonna miss ‘em something fierce.

Funny thing is, It’s not the year away that’s already getting to me; most times we (family) only truly get together Xmas time. It’s the distance. All these locations are 50mins away by air or 8 hrs by road at most. But UK is 6.5 hrs away by air and 20 times costlier. I can’t dream of dropping in for a weekend anymore.

Or my Mom calling me at 11pm. (I don’t understand why but she ‘s usually bright awake at that time)

On the other hand, I have longed to leave Nigeria. I didn’t even mind another African country or Alaska or China. Just wanted to leave those shores for a while and live out a new experience and get an education while doing it.

And dear friends, when I get maudlin or homesick in some not so distant future (*smirk)…kindly remind me of this last paragraph!

p.s. In other news, Nigeria celebrated 50 years of her Independence from Britain.